


la petite mort

by deuteroscopies



Series: the prophet and the king [14]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Backstory, Demon Deals, Implied/Referenced Underage Prostitution, M/M, Past Child Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Relationship(s), Post-Prison, Psychological Trauma, Self-Esteem Issues, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-05
Updated: 2019-12-05
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:54:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21677815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deuteroscopies/pseuds/deuteroscopies
Summary: A spectre from Freddie's past returns, dredging up old, terrible memories and promising new ones to come.(Previously: Ephram killed their partner Ruby's abusive ex-husband David Johnson at an abandoned paper mill when he came to town to shoot & stab Elizabeth (Freddie's other partner), as well as to shoot, rape, and maim Ruby. Ruby subsequently was mailed a package of venomous rattlesnakes by a mysterious attacker and was bitten by them. Freddie and Iann got involved in a con where they made the acquaintance of a fairy with slippery morals named Suky Toddry. Iann Cardero = Pedro Pascal FC, Martin Adjaye = Idris Elba FC, Otis Jenkins = Michael Rooker FC)
Relationships: Freddie Watts/Ephram Pettaline
Series: the prophet and the king [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1551673





	la petite mort

**Author's Note:**

> > Freddie Watts = Tom Hardy FC, Ephram Pettaline = Boyd Holbrook FC. These stories are set in the supernatural town of Soapberry Springs, in the Pacific Northwest. Freddie is a fairy con man from London, with cobalt-coloured dragonfly wings and silver fairy dust, who has a Japanese Chin familiar named Oliver; Ephram is a witch from impoverished East Kentucky who shares his body with a demon called Anaxis and has green magic of his own.
>> 
>> [the prophet and the king 'verse tumblr](http://theprophetandtheking.tumblr.com/)   
> 

[freddie TXT] Are you awake, love?  
  
ephram TXT: For you? always  
  
TXT: I honestly am tho, felt like taking a run. What’s up?  
  
[freddie TXT] I’m just dropping Iann off, and then I’ll be home. I need to talk to you when I get there though, sweetheart. It’s important. Ruby’s gone to bed, hasn’t she? I think I can only manage this with one of you at a time.  
  
ephram TXT: Yeah, she was tuckered out, we took a walk all over the grounds. Good to see her sleeping easy now. I’m here waiting for you, honey.  
  
Ephram couldn’t imagine what Freddie would be so serious about, but then again – there was plenty he didn’t know about his husband’s life before Soapberry Springs, and even more he didn’t know about the scars he carried from that life. He put on the kettle, at any rate, and waited.  
  
[freddie TXT] I’ll see you soon.  
  
Less than ten minutes later - Iann safely deposited back at Mal Ojo, looking greatly worse for wear - Freddie pulled the Mercedes back into his own driveway, his hands shaking badly again by the time he’d turned the car off and headed for the door.  
  
The fairy had spent most of the drive home riding the accelerator, and watching the rear-view mirror like a mad man, petrified that each new set of headlights was a tail he’d failed to notice earlier. That Iann had been wrong, and Martin was actually much much closer than Freddie had feared.  
  
But still, he’d managed to arrive back at the house in Jamara safe and sound - barring the obvious, of course.  
  
Freddie fumbled with his keys at the front door, needing two tries before he was successful; and once he was, he hurried inside, closing it tight behind him, and immediately locking it up again.  
  
Checking all the downstairs doors and windows, before heading upstairs to do the same - silencing his steps with fairy dust in the master bedroom so as not to wake Ruby - Freddie knew, even as he was doing it, that it was a joke. That if Martin really wanted to come in, nothing would keep him out. But he couldn’t stop himself. And once he was satisfied that everything was secure, the fairy armed the security system, too.  
  
Only then, did he head for the kitchen; knowing that Iann was right, that Ephram needed to know exactly what was going on - but having absolutely no idea where to start.  
  
“ _Jesus_ , Freddie.”  
  
The exclamation fell from Ephram’s lips before he could contain it. He’d seen Freddie distraught before, and he’d seen Freddie banged around, but this … this was out-and-out fear, the kind that lurked in the marrow of a person until something broke and it all spilled out. And Freddie looked as though something had broken in him.  
  
Moving forward, Ephram put his hands on Freddie’s thick shoulders, rubbing up and down his husband’s arms. He’d heard the madcap investigation that Freddie had done throughout the house and figured that there was something on the fairy’s heels especially when he heard the alarm being armed, but seeing Freddie’s drawn, shaken face made it seem much more urgent.  
  
“Tell me what’s wrong, darlin'. Are you in any danger?” The question came out more brusquely than Ephram intended, more along the lines of his official capacity than his intimate one. “Tell me everything.”  
  
As soon as he’d seen Ephram, Freddie had felt something give inside his chest. He’d wanted nothing more than to just put his arms around his husband, and finally give in to his panic, entirely; to let Ephram hold him and promise him it would be alright - even though the fairy knew beyond on a shadow of a doubt that it wouldn’t.  
  
He’d wanted to pretend, for a few moments, that Ephram really _did_ have the power to protect him. And when Ephram had touched him, he’d almost allowed himself to do it. But the abrupt, no-nonsense tone of Ephram’s voice stopped him short.  
  
Wet-eyed and shaky, Freddie nodded. “I am, yeah,” he said in a voice so soft it was nearly inaudible, “And it’s not the sort I’m going to be able to get out of.”  
  
“I… I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”  
  
“Don’t apologize.” Ephram did put his arms around Freddie now, a little rattled by the obvious fear and indecision that made the fairy’s whole demeanour seem so much more fragile than he was used to. He kissed Freddie’s notched eyebrow, the inner corner of one eye, gossamer gentle. “You don’t need to be sorry if trouble follows you, baby, I’m here to keep you safe.”  
  
He almost thought he could feel Freddie’s wings shaking with a faint anxious thrum, and whether that was in his mind or not, Ephram decided that holding Freddie for a while longer would be best. “Start at the beginning,” he suggested gently, seeing that his husband was overwhelmed ( _Freddie_ , overwhelmed? Come up against something even his flit-quick brain couldn’t compensate for? It was inconceivable) by the enormity of whatever was threatening him.  
  
“Tell me who it is scaring you so bad, Freddie. Let’s start with that.”  
  
Freddie closed his eyes as Ephram kissed him, and murmured, “You have no idea how much I wish that were true, darling,” his voice hitching as a tear rolled out from under his eyelid, unbidden. Freddie reached up to scrub it away, but made no move to leave Ephram’s arms, already silently calculating how many more times he still might have the chance to be there.  
  
He huffed out an almost bitter-sounding laugh against his witch’s chest at the notion of the beginning though - _which_ beginning? - before finally lifting his head again and looking Ephram in the eye. His voice as firm and steady as he could manage - despite the ongoing tremor in his hands and wings - Freddie said, “Before I tell you his name, I need you to promise me that you won’t do anything with it, love. No checks, no searches, no investigation. Nothing. It’s not safe.”  
  
“Do you promise? I need you to promise, Ephram. Please.”  
  
“I promise,” Ephram said with barely a breath between the end of Freddie’s entreaty and his own acquiescence. “Freddie, honey, I won’t do thing one without your say-so, all right?” He rubbed his hand up and down Freddie’s back and the wings tucked away there, understanding a little more - with each passing moment of Freddie being terrified enough to crumple against him and exact promises - just what kind of fuckeduppery this was shaping up to be.  
  
“Listen,” Ephram continued, wanting Freddie to understand just how seriously he was taking this, “I know the kinds of circles you must of run in, considering what it is you do, and Freddie, I got no intention of plunging into waters that deep. _You_ know what’s happening and how dangerous it is. I’m gonna protect you but I’m also gonna follow your lead, okay? You can trust me not to go off half-cocked and make things worse.”  
  
Freddie nodded as Ephram spoke, grateful for his husband’s trust, and hoping that Ephram would be able to keep that promise once he knew more; remembering the single-minded swing of Ephram’s fist into David Johnson's skull from the paper mill.  
  
 _But then_ , the fairy thought, chastising himself, _he wasn’t Ruby; and this was a very different situation_.  
  
“Thank-you,” Freddie said, swallowing hard before he could attempt to explain, “Iann… Iann and I are going to handle it - as best we can - but you need to know what’s going on. All three of you do - but the girls… I just…”  
  
Freddie shook his head, his voice wobbling. “I’ll frighten Ruby if I try talking to her now, and Lizzie… she won’t hear me properly. She’ll just…react.”  
  
“It has to be you first,” he said. “You…” Freddie couldn’t even finish his thought. He just gripped Ephram’s shirt tightly, as though at any moment he might be taken from him, and repeated thickly, “It _has_ to be you.”  
  
That insistence in Freddie’s voice, incoherent though he was about his reasoning, was all that Ephram needed. “All right,” he said. “If it needs to be me first, well – I’m right here and I’ll stay right here, okay? I won’t leave your side.”  
  
Despite the calm, unruffled demeanor he was keeping on for Freddie’s benefit, Ephram was starting to get more and more concerned the longer his fairy went on exacting promises and making strange stipulations. It was like Freddie was finding every possible way to avoid reaching his target. The idea of what might have upset Freddie to that degree was … incomprehensible.  
  
But Ephram needed to know, first.  
  
“Freddie,” he said more firmly, taking hold of his husband and giving him a gentle shake, “whatever you need, I’ll do it. But you gotta _tell_ me, honey, you gotta get it out no matter how painful it is. Okay? Can you do that for me, baby?”  
  
When Ephram shook him, Freddie’s eyes went wide, and then he dropped his head, looking down at the floor; ashamed of himself for coming apart at the seams like he was. For acting like a child instead of a man. And he nodded, forcing himself to let go of Ephram’s shirt and take a deep breath; to step back.  
  
“Yeah,” he said, still not looking Ephram in the eye, “-yeah… yeah, sorry.” He sniffed, and wiped at his face, trying to sort himself out; breathing slow and steady for a moment, and then sitting down at the table.  
  
Freddie had buried his memories of Martin - all of them; the good, the bad, and the horrifying - so far down that even now, inundated as he was by flashes of them, by waves of both intense panic, and cold fear, that he couldn’t control, it was almost physically painful to have to wrench them all up again.  
  
He’d buried them deep for a reason. He hadn’t wanted to ever have to touch them again.  
  
“There’s a man,” Freddie said, his voice low and halting, “-that I used to know; a vampire called Martin Adjaye - he…he hurt me, a long time ago; very badly, and…” The fairy’s voice had started to shake again, along with his hands, and he clenched his jaw; taking a deep breath and letting it out again slowly, forcing himself to overcome it.  
  
“And he’s found me. Here. Suky Toddry’s given me to him. And he-”  
  
Freddie cut off again to take another slow, shaky breath; and when he was steady enough to continue, there was a finality in his tone. A resignation. “And when he comes for me, there’s not going to be anything anyone can do about it.”  
  
Ephram was sorry to have had to snap Freddie back into functionality like that, so abruptly, but there was nothing for it. He stayed quietly there while Freddie gathered himself back up, reeling in the tremendous fear that was in every move and sound he made, and started to explain. Barebones. A man who had hurt him.  
  
A _vampire_ who had hurt him, this deeply, this lasting. Ephram felt his hands clench into fists, his jaw set so hard that the muscle at the hinge was jumping. Even more so when Freddie said this Suky Toddry had _given_ him to Adjaye. Suddenly it all came stingingly crystal clear for Ephram, the damage he had done in attempting to … give Freddie to Elizabeth. If it wouldn’t have upset Freddie more, Ephram would have punched the nearest hard surface right there and then.  
  
“You said you and Iann are working on it, right?” Ephram said, all his effort going into keeping his voice steady and bolstering. “Well, you two are gonna come up with some plan. And I’ll be with you every step of the way, however you want me. That’s the difference, baby.” Ephram drew Freddie back close to him, wrapping his arms around his fairy and rocking them both gently. “Last time you were alone. This time you got people who care about you and won’t let Adjaye take you. It’s a strength, not a liability.” One hand moving to span the nape of Freddie’s neck, Ephram said firmly, “You don’t belong to Suky Toddry to give you away, and you don’t belong to Adjaye to come collect you. Didn’t I already say you was mine? You’re mine and I’ll _never_ give you up.”  
  
He held Freddie a while longer, letting them both take silent comfort in each other, and then carefully asked, “…what did he do to you, Freddie?”  
  
Freddie let himself indulge in Ephram’s assurances for a moment, in the strength of his voice, and his arms; not wanting to let go of the notion of belonging to him yet - but he forced himself to call a halt to it not long after; knowing it was exceptionally dangerous to go down that particular road. To allow Ephram to believe that this was something that could be changed, or undone.  
  
Freddie straightened up again, and said, calmer than he’d been since stepping foot in the door, and able to channel that only because Ephram needed to understand what they were dealing with, “You’re not going to be able to do anything about it, sweetheart. I wish you could, but you can’t. Because Iann and I are working, yeah; but…” Freddie sighed. “But not like how you mean, love.”  
  
“Giving me up isn’t going to be a choice this time.”  
  
He moved closer again, tightening his grip, and allowing himself to be held for just a few minutes more - but when Ephram asked what Martin had done, Freddie stiffened. He didn’t want to tell Ephram those kinds of specifics. He didn’t want to have to think about them long enough to say the words.  
  
But it seemed that he no longer had a choice either.  
  
Extricating himself from Ephram’s arms, Freddie nodded towards the living room, and murmured, “Let’s go sit down, yeah?”  
  
Settling himself on the sofa, cowed and closed off, everything about his posture tight and painful, Freddie grabbed one of the throws and pulled it into his lap to give himself something to fidget with as he spoke; not even attempting to make eye-contact with his husband.  
  
There was a lot to tell, really. And the fairy did the best he could, in fits and starts, wavering and trembling - digging through memories he’d never wanted to revisit - to tell Ephram all about Martin Adjaye, and why he frightened him so badly.

“I met Martin Adjaye in Budapest when I was seventeen,” Freddie said quietly. “I’d moved there after I left Antwerp - I wanted somewhere new; somewhere I hadn’t been before.” He sighed. “Somewhere I could run roughshod over the population, partying, and stealing, and applying everything I’d just spent the better part of a year learning, so that I could begin to re-acquire the lifestyle that my father had taken away from me.”

“I had no real reason to go there; it just happened to be as good as anywhere else.”

“It’s funny,” the fairy said, his voice strangely flat, “-because when I first started selling myself, I already thought that I knew everything. I’d been lying, and manipulating - and _fucking_ \- everyone I knew at school for so long - students, teachers… _everyone_ \- that I thought that sort of work would be a doddle. Easy money, and a never-ending stream of marks for me to sharpen up my skills with. Only it turns out that that sort of thing’s never as easy as you think it is. For a variety of reasons.”

“I had no fucking idea what the world was actually _like_ when I started - but after a nearly a year of it, I was positive that there was nothing new under the sun. That I’d seen, and done, and figured out, pretty much everything. No surprises left. I mean, when you’re being paid to fuck someone, to cuddle them, to let them use your body for whatever it is that they need… you see everything. It’s an intrinsic part of the job - and I thought I’d learned everything there was to know about the nature of ego, and insecurity, and how best to exploit it for my own personal gain…”

Taking a deep breath, he went on. “I noticed Martin almost as soon as I got to Budapest. I couldn’t help it, really. He was unavoidable. Huge, and gorgeous; radiating this… power. He was surrounded by lackeys - he’s rather like Suky Toddry, that way; likes to keep his people within barking distance. And he was _everywhere_ I went, it seemed. Every bar, every club… he was there. Watching me. And he wanted me to know it.”

“Which I thought was bloody wonderful - and likely doesn’t come as much surprise, knowing me like you do, yeah?” The fairy’s voice turned harshly derisive. “I mean, if you think I like attention _now_ , it’s nothing compared to what I was like then, darling; I promise you.”

“And I didn’t know that he was a vampire, at first. I’d never had any real experience of them - they tend to frequent prostitutes who specialize, or who double as blood dolls - and most of my clients, most of the people I mixed with in general, were all human. It wasn’t until later - in Budapest, and after - that I started making inroads into the supernatural community. Martin rather liked to show me off.”

“But none of that’s terribly relevant. The point is, he saw me in a club - he could smell me, he told me later - and to hear him describe it, it was love at first sight. Or whatever he thinks passes for love, I suppose. He wanted me; made no bones about it - and I… started flirting. Teasing him; trying to draw him out, to make him work for it. I wanted to see if he would, you know? A man like that… I wanted to see if he thought I was worth the effort.”

“I never actually knew how he made his money, specifically,” the fairy carried on, “I still don’t. All I knew was that he was rich, and powerful, and commanded a great deal of respect - people were afraid of him; bent over backwards to keep him happy - and I didn’t care at the time to find out why. It didn’t matter to me, and he likely wouldn’t have told me anything anyway. He hadn’t chosen me for my business acumen, after all.”

“Martin knew what I was - what I had been, and the sorts of jobs I’d begun to work in Budapest - and he treated it as though it were a cute little hobby; and encouraged me carry on if it amused me. With the heavy implication that there were lines now that couldn’t be crossed. But since he let me keep my flat, I assumed that those things fell under the umbrella of preferences more than actual demands, and I never gave it a second thought. I thought he’d indulge me anything, anyway; forgive me anything…”

Freddie trailed off, thinking… and then roused himself back to the story with a little shudder. “Sorry, love,” he murmured, “-I got a little lost for a moment there.” Then he took a deep breath and carried on, “I was with him for three and a half months; every day, because he liked me close - or, really, every _night_ , as it were. Martin never used a daylight charm, preferring to make everyone he dealt with conform to _his_ schedule.”

“And it wasn’t love - not for me - and he knew that. I never said it. But I was very fond of him. He fed on me, and fucked me, and spoiled me rotten; took care of me like nobody else had ever bothered to - and all I had to do was what I was told. Which seemed like a reasonably fair trade to me; adhering to the idea that what Martin didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him, and the assumption that he had to understand I’d be bending the rules a little.”

“I thought it was a very pleasant little arrangement. Mutually beneficial in all the right ways.”

Freddie sighed. “Martin could be frightening, and violent - alternating between wanting to keep me from that side of his dealings, and then immersing me in it; but since it was never aimed at me, I didn’t believe that it _could_ be. I thought that I existed outside of his expectations for the rest of the world, and what he meted out to keep that world in line - but I was wrong, and eventually my turn came too.”

The fairy’s voice took on a strange, distant quality. “There’s a ring, you see, called the[ Bvlgari Blue](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fs-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com%2Foriginals%2Fe3%2Fcb%2F7a%2Fe3cb7a2f00173dd92d38091df06ba503.jpg&t=ZDM0NmY3NzJlM2M0MGNlZWVkZGFkYmQ2NWIzZmM0ZmQ4ZTNjYTRiOCxnRHFxMkI5UA%3D%3D&b=t%3ArhaL5ye4Z8Nf4mnOCoWQFQ&p=https%3A%2F%2Ffreddiewatts.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F151294534039%2Freconnaissance-freddie-and-iann&m=1), that I was trying to get my hands on - this was before I’d decided that I should concentrate on art - and I’d spent quite a few daylight hours cozying up to the woman it belonged to, but she was boring me senseless, and belaboring the entire endeavor; and eventually, it became clear that the easiest, and most efficient, way to collect the ring was to take her to bed. Martin, however, didn’t agree.”

“His people took me off the street when I came out of her flat that afternoon - minders that I wasn’t aware I had - and I spent the next 72 hours - vampires of course, don’t _need_ to sleep - being made to regret what I’d done.”

He wasn’t sure he’d managed to make much sense, but by the time he arrived at the pertinent details, he did his best to keep himself tightly focused.  
  
“He kept me drained - he glutted himself; he and his right hand man - for three days,” Freddie said softly, his voice wavering but not breaking. “I’d heal just enough to stay alive, but not enough to do anything to protect or defend myself - you can’t generate dust when you’re that weak, and you can’t think straight enough to use it - and the whole thing would just… _go on_.”  
  
“Martin wanted to make sure I’d learned my lesson.”  
  
Freddie didn’t elaborate, just went quiet, remembering. He’d never felt so much pain in his life - or so much fear. And Martin had never stopped talking. Telling him that he’d brought it all on himself; once a whore, always a whore, it seemed. That he was a worthless slut; an ingrate, and that Martin hadn’t yet decided if he intended to let him live.  
  
Variations on the same themes for seventy-two hours straight.  
  
Freddie had been no stranger to being bitten and fed on by then - it was a nightly occurrence, after all - but not at all the way that Martin had attacked him then, leaving ragged wounds behind on his thighs and chest; on his neck. All of them in various stages of healing; bloody and painful.  
  
He’d been slapped, and beaten; fucked raw, and made to beg for it - over and over until the vampire had finally decided, in his benevolence, that Freddie had had enough.  
  
“Why did you make me do that, eh?” Martin had murmured to him afterwards, when he’d been dressing Freddie again - the fairy still nearly exsanguinated, “Why’d you make me have to treat you like that?”  
  
“I suppose it’s my own fault for falling in love with an undeserving little tart like you in the first place though, isn’t it?”  
  
He’d kissed Freddie then, and then moved his lips close to Freddie’s ear to murmur, “Your life belongs to me, sweetness. You get to keep breathing, because I want you to. Because I allow it, yeah? So say thank-you, like a good boy…”  
  
Freddie pushed the memory back down again, trying to lock the door on it once more, but found that he couldn’t; that it refused to be forced out of sight.  
  
Ephram listened, curled into the sofa so he was facing Freddie even though his husband wasn’t meeting his eyes. And as the gruesome details unfolded, each piece like it was peeled from Freddie’s skin, Ephram felt something unlatch deep in his own tightly wadded-up and shoved-away assault traumas. There was an unexpected aspect of knowing that they had this experience in common that Ephram was struggling with; not because it made him feel further from Freddie, but because it made them feel even _more_ tightly knotted together.  
  
And when the story came to its inevitably chilling end (or mid-point, was more accurate), Ephram moved closer to Freddie on the sofa, tangling his fingers in the throw as well and letting his wrist rest against the side of Freddie’s thigh. The notion of Freddie young and alone turning to sex work to survive made Ephram ache deep inside, but Adjaye’s brutal dismantling of the man he loved loomed largest over everything else. “Freddie,” he said, very quietly, “that should never have happened to you. There wasn’t … once it got put in motion, honey, once Adjaye decided what purpose it was you was meant to serve, it was always gonna end up like that, okay? He was always gonna hurt you. Only question was when you would reach that point he set the minute he saw you and decided he wanted you, my beautiful husband, Jesus, _Freddie_.”  
  
Despite his resolution to give Freddie space, Ephram slipped his arms around his fairy, face wet with furious and anguished tears. “He raped you, didn’t he?” Ephram asked, his voice shaking. “ _They_ did. And you already weak from being drunk off, ahhhhhh Christ, _Freddie_ , Freddie.” He pressed his mouth against the side of Freddie’s head, his whole body shaking from emotion and a quickly encroaching sense of fear. “Baby, you can tell me about it. You can tell me whatever you need to. I’ll–” Ephram swallowed thickly, and when he spoke again his voice as a little more bleak, but no less coaxing. “I’ll understand what you’re talking about. What you been through. As much as another man can.”  
  
He was concerned about what Freddie’d said - that although he and Iann were working out what to do, there was no attempted goal of preventing Adjaye from coming and reclaiming Freddie - but Freddie had Iann for that part of it. Ephram had never spoken about what he’d endured in prison until now, but in a twisted way he was almost glad he had that experience in his past. Something that might let Freddie know he could also talk about what had happened to him, that Ephram understood that nothing about these situations was ever black and white. There was always some thread of personal culpability, some point where it felt good when it _should_ have been feeling bad, one moment where you leaned a little too close to the lions. And then while they ripped you apart, they told you that there was something inside you that meant you deserved the desecration.  
  
“I don’t wanna lose you, Freddie,” Ephram gasped, butting his forehead against Freddie’s temple. “I _ain’t_ gonna lose you. It wouldn’t–” He pulled away, looking around at the room they were in, the house, “–nothin’ would be worth anything without you, Freddie, I couldn’t go on. Not without you.”  
  
Freddie felt Ephram move closer, but he didn’t look up. He just listened as his husband attempted to absolve him of any responsibility for what he’d allowed to happen, knowing that he didn’t deserve any such release. How could he? He’d courted Martin’s favour, encouraged him, allowed him any and every liberty with his body that the vampire had wanted…  
  
And ultimately, he’d been made to pay for it. That it came at a much higher price than he’d ever anticipated, well…that was the lesson, wasn’t it?  
  
A lesson he’d never, ever forget. No matter how much he’d like to.  
  
Freddie knew he’d never be able to make Ephram understand that though; that it would hurt his witch to even have to listen to him try - so he stayed quiet while he attempted to summon the wherewithal to continue his story. To explain what had happened with Suky Toddry; and why all of this - why Martin - was suddenly relevant again.  
  
But before he could, the fairy found himself pulled into Ephram’s arms; warm lips pressed to his temple, as the man he loved most in the world asked the one question that Freddie had no desire to answer, the pain of shared experience thick in his voice.  
  
They’d never discussed the specifics of Ephram’s incarceration, but Freddie had known since the beginning what had happened there. He’d been able to see it in Ephram’s eyes, hear it in the words Ephram chose when he spoke about his time in prison. And he’d seen pictures. Ephram had been platinum blond, and slight, and angelic - and Freddie knew beyond a shadow of doubt that they’d have made a meal of him.  
  
His poor Ephram - dropped directly into Hell, and left there; like a lamb to the slaughter.  
  
What had happened to Freddie wasn’t the same, though. And he couldn’t diminish what had happened to Ephram by attempting to claim that it was. His witch had been barely more than a child when he’d been left at the mercy of those men and those bars; but by seventeen, Freddie had long since ceased to be anything of the kind.  
  
He’d already sold everything, at one point or another, that had been taken from him by force. And when it had no longer been for sale, he’d given it to Martin freely; wantonly. Regularly.  
  
That changed the narrative; it muddied the water… Didn’t it?  
  
Of course it did.  
  
“They…” Freddie started, his voice sounding almost scraped raw, “…they had sex with me, yeah… Martin wanted to make a point… To show me I wasn’t special…”  
  
“What happened to you though, love, that’s…” Freddie’s voice cracked slightly, “-that’s different. I’m not…” He shook his head, not even sure what he wanted to say. “It was wrong, what happened to you…”  
  
The fairy swallowed hard, still reluctant to look Ephram in the eye, trying to choke back his tears, and calm himself again. “He’s either going to keep me, or kill me,” the fairy said quietly, “He wouldn’t have gone to this kind of trouble for anything less; I still know him well enough to know that.” He lifted his head finally, and reached up to touch Ephram’s cheek, gently stroking the soft bristles of his beard. “What’s important to me, is that he stays well away from the three of you.”  
  
Freddie forced the ghost of a small, sad smile. “Because you can do without me, darling. We both already know that.”  
  
“And it was wrong what happened to _you_.” Ephram was getting himself a little more under control again, and this, he was able to say with complete certainty. “I know it’s what you had to tell yourself, baby, that it was all your doing and your choice, because you gotta tell yourself that to survive. Especially as young and alone as you were. When kids are–” He stopped, licked his lips, and continued, “when kids are abused like you was, at them schools, the only way to make sense of it is to decide you deserve it. You can’t be blamed for that, Freddie.” Ephram held him close, rocking them both slightly. “You can’t be blamed for any of it. Even if you ran towards danger. That’s you coping with what you been through.”  
  
Ephram was quiet for a moment, letting that sink in. “When I got back out into the World,” he said, “after prison, I felt like I was losing my fuckin’ mind trying to cope with it by myself. And the only thing what helped was finding a man I knew on the inside – one who … the one who owned me. The first few years I was inside. Who used me himself and traded me out when he needed something. Him and a bunch of others fucked me - they - they _raped_ me my third day in.” The word sat awkwardly on Ephram’s tongue. Like Freddie had done, Ephram would say _sex_ or _fuck_ before he’d say rape, but he realized now that he should start calling it what it was, if he wanted to have any leg to stand on with his husband’s tattered, desolate past. “Feller name’a Otis Jenkins. And I started sleeping with him. Now what sense does that make? None, except I just spent four whole years getting it done to me and not being able to say nothin’ about it. But outside, it was my choice. My decision to let him work me over any way he wanted. And it felt _good_ for a while, Freddie.”  
  
It wasn’t exactly the same. But Ephram knew that with his scattershot background of petty theft and general shit-disturbing, he’d been no innocent when he’d been sent to prison. He hadn’t deserved what befell him there, and Freddie didn’t deserve what Adjaye had done to him. Just like he didn’t deserve what Ephram had thoughtlessly made him believe about how little he was worth.  
  
“Listen to me,” Ephram said. “What I did, what I thought – that I could be okay if you was with Elizabeth and not me - it was stupid, and selfish, and inconsiderate. All of them things. But it wasn’t _true_.” He sat back from Freddie a little, needing to look him in the eyes for this part of the conversation. “I’m not trying to make excuses for myself, now. Nothing excuses what I put you through. In my way of thinking, I was making it easy on you, so you wouldn’t have to deal with me and Elizabeth being at odds or have to make a choice between us. So I couldn’t very well tell you that I’d be fuckin’ _devastated_ without you, Freddie.”  
  
Ephram touched his fingertips to Freddie’s jaw, not wanting to overwhelm him with too much physical contact. “I _would_ be, Freddie. That’s the truth of it, I can’t even fool myself otherwise at this point. I couldn’t _live_ without you.” His voice was eroding as he spoke, unconsciously dragging down into a low, intense subterranean rumble. “You’re my life. And there’s no way I’m gonna let Adjaye keep or kill you, not while I still got breath in me.”  
  
The fairy had never heard himself described as ‘ _abused_ ’ before, and immediately, he wanted to reject the term out of hand. The same way he wanted to banish the word ‘ _rape_ ’ from the official discussion of what had happened to him over the course of those long hours in 1994, and those few dicey evenings scattered throughout his months as a rent-boy. The realities of those words belonged to other people. They were reserved for the innocent.  
  
Freddie knew that Ephram didn’t approve of what had gone on with his teachers; and he knew that, technically, those relationships had been vaguely predatory, if viewed from a certain angle - the men in question had all been at least twenty years older than him at the time; a collection of slavering Humbert Humberts eager to be tempted, and happy to teach him to please them - but he’d never said no, never balked at anything suggested, so he could hardly blame them for their interest.  
  
Freddie had wanted them, at the time, for one reason or another. He’d wanted their attention, their focus; to be something that couldn’t be ignored, or dismissed. He’d wanted the benefits attached to their favour, or attached to their fear of being found out. And if, occasionally, the experience had left him feeling lonely, or vaguely sullied, then Freddie had always just chalked that up to life being disappointing. He’d never chosen to examine those feelings further. He’d never wanted to.  
  
And he _still_ didn’t want to. Because as much as he loved to be the subject of Ephram’s attentive gaze, he never wanted it to be for these reasons. That part of his past, at least, had no reach into the present. Not unless he dug it up. And Freddie had no intention of doing anything of the kind. He’d have set fire to it all if he could have. Martin had crawled back out of the hole Freddie had buried him in, but that didn’t mean he was allowed to drag everything else out with him.  
  
Consequently, Freddie didn’t speak as Ephram rocked him. He wasn’t sure of what to say, or how to put any of that into words; afraid that if Ephram knew how horrified he was by the notion of appearing to be some kind of irreparably broken toy in his husband’s eyes, that it would only cement the idea as fact - so he stayed quiet, just clinging for comfort, knowing that he still had so much more to explain.  
  
But he was distracted from all that when Ephram began to relate his own experiences after he got out of prison. Because as awful as it was to think of - Ephram willingly seeking out this man who had hurt him so badly - Freddie understood exactly why he’d done it. He needed no explanations at all.  
  
“It’s control,” he said softly, “When you have none, it’s the only thing in the world that matters… the only currency worth trafficking in… People don’t understand that…”  
  
He was confused though when Ephram began to push away from him a moment later, digging his fingers into his witch’s shirt to keep him close; realizing, finally, that Ephram was only trying to look him in the eye - but he refused to let go. He just couldn’t seem to make his hands unclench; and he began to shake his head vehemently, rejecting Ephram’s words. “You’ll miss me at first,” he said, “I know that; but you’ll be fine, love. You’ve told me as much. You said-”  
  
He stilled again when Ephram touched his jaw though; swallowing hard, and looking down, unable to meet his husband’s eyes anymore. Freddie loved Ephram so much, and he’d never wanted anything as much as he wanted someone to feel that way about him. ‘ _You’re my life_ ,’ his witch had said. And Freddie knew he would replay those words in his head as often as he had to, for the rest of his days. However many he happened to have.  
  
True or not, Ephram cared enough to say it, and Freddie couldn’t ask for more.  
  
He shook his head a second time. “But you _have_ to, love.” The fairy took a deep breath, and squared his shoulders, finally raising his head again. “The only way I’ll be able to stand it,” he said, his voice approaching steady for the first time since arriving home, “-is if I know the three of you are alright. You promised me that you wouldn’t do anything without my okay, sweetheart - and I need you to stick to that.”  
  
“If I can help myself, I will. If I can’t…” Freddie didn’t finish the sentence, just let it trail off, his love for Ephram and his regret over the situation clear in his eyes.  
  
And then he leaned in and kissed him softly, unable to do anything else.  
  
There were worlds of hurt that made up Freddie’s past, Ephram knew. Was learning a little more about every time they talked. And no single conversation could make that more comprehensible or more bearable. All he could do was keep calling the things that had happened to Freddie by the words that truly described them, no matter how ugly those words might be. Ephram had no intention of co-signing the self-recriminating euphemisms that Freddie employed; he understood how Freddie might need that, a good thick cushion of dirt to bury those experiences under, but sometimes shit needed to be exhumed. Or it would stay alive and rotting down there.  
  
That was long-term, though. That was beloved work that Ephram would be happy to do for the rest of his life with this man. And there was _nobody_ who was gonna keep them from that life.  
  
“Freddie,” Ephram said, kissing his fairy with answering gentleness, “now, I promised you I wouldn’t go off on any wild plans without you knowing, and I’ll stick to that, I’m an honest man and my word means something. You don’t gotta worry 'bout that none. And I understand that you delivering yourself to the hands of this monster might be what it takes to get free of him forever.” He kissed Freddie again, the tender intensity of the gesture swiftly becoming at stark odds to what Ephram said next, his voice blistering with suppressed fury:  
  
“-but I mean it when I say I won’t live without you, Freddie. If Adjaye kills you–” Ephram’s voice scratched bloodily over the words, “–if that’s what happens, I am gonna end him. We found David Johnson and I _killed him_ , Freddie, and Adjaye might be more powerful than a Hunter and way more of a threat, but me....” Ephram dragged his hand down Freddie’s arm until he was holding his husband’s hand, thumb pressing into the brand mark, the burnt mirror to the demon-binding brand seared onto his own hip.  
  
“What I got in me can fucking _scorch_ Adjaye from existence. And if you’re gone, Freddie, if I have to face life without you, I ain’t gonna hold back. I’m gonna let Anaxis destroy him.”  
  
Freddie had sighed heavily, closing his eyes, when Ephram had begun to liken the situation with Martin to what they’d faced with David Johnson, understanding his position, his rationale, but knowing it was flawed. Because while Johnson had been a formidable man - a man who’d nearly managed to destroy everything they had - he was still only a man.  
  
He was mortal. Human. A…a…what would Iann call it? A _fleshbag_. David was weak and insubstantial by virtue of his biology, and he’d still almost ripped them all to shreds. Physically, emotionally, psychically. And he was a _child_ compared to Martin. The vampire couldn’t be approached the same way.  
  
But Freddie began to realize very quickly that that was precisely what Ephram was saying. And when he did, when he understood what his husband intended - before the name Anaxis had even passed Ephram’s lips - the fairy’s eyes flew open and he yanked his hand back. “No!” he said forcefully, staring at Ephram in horror, “Absolutely _not_. Are you listening to me, Ephram? Do you hear me? No. Never. I won’t fucking _allow_ it. ”  
  
“Don’t ever say that to me again,” Freddie spat, “Don’t you ever even consider that. I don’t flaming care what the circumstances are; that is never an option. How could you think I would want that, knowing what it would do to you. _No_.”  
  
“And who’ll take care of Ruby, eh?” Freddie went on, “If I’m dead, and you’ve given yourself over to that thing, who’ll save her from it after Martin’s gone?” He shook his head violently. “No.”  
  
“Promise me,” he demanded, “Promise me right now that you won’t do that. That you won’t even think it. Swear to me. I want you safe.”  
  
“If you’re dead,” Ephram said, his voice stony and black, “If you’re dead, Freddie, then you got no say in what I do and it won’t matter what you want. It would matter what me and Ruby do with part of our lives having been ripped asunder.”  
  
He sat back, then stood entirely, his body uncoiling slowly and deliberately until he was at his full height. Not looming over Freddie, but like a shield, a watchtower. “If you’re dead, Freddie,” Ephram began again, every muscle tense, “there ain’t any way that I could settle or rest knowing that the creature what murdered you still roams afield. If he takes you from us, then I will walk the fucking _earth_ to make sure he pays for what he done.”  
  
Ephram’s face was thunderous by this point, although his body was still carefully held still. He didn’t want to upset Freddie with any physical movements, as disturbed as his husband already was from hearing what Ephram intended.  
  
“So long as there’s any chance in heaven or hell that we can get you back and beat Adjaye somehow,” Ephram said, “I won’t make a move, Freddie. I can promise you that, I can swear that to you. No matter how much I want to, I won’t do shit until you say. But you can’t – you _won’t_ – get me to promise to stay my hand if you’re dead.” He took a half-step back, saying, “Ruby'll understand what I’d need to do. Hell, she’ll probably offer to fling herself to Adjaye to keep ‘im off you.” Ephram shook his head. “Bless her heart, she thinks all she’s gotta do in every situation is sacrifice herself, like that’ll solve it. But you and me both know better. Adjaye would snap her like a damn toothpick and keep coming to get you.”  
  
Ephram raised his hands to scrub them roughly through his hair before continuing, “Ruby'll understand why I would need to unleash the fuckin’ demon, why that sort of hellstorm would be what was needed. And what’s more, Freddie … she’d have to understand that if Anaxis razes her and me both down in the process, it would be worth it. Because I wouldn’t want to live without you if Adjaye kills you.” Ephram’s eyes were fiercely alight, a fire burning behind the dark blue that he rarely allowed to climb that high, that frenetic.  
  
Freddie stood up - hating that he’d brought them to this place; shaken and frightened and angry, and desperately in love with the man in front of him - and said in a worn ragged voice, as he looked up into Ephram’s eyes, his hands coming to rest on his husband’s chest, “I suppose I’d better live then, hadn’t I?”  
  
He didn’t bother to point out that Anaxis would never kill Ephram - it needed Ephram, and moreover, in a perverse way, it _liked_ Ephram; or it liked _torturing_ him, at least. It would never let him go; never be so merciful as to kill him. It might kill Martin for the sheer joy of indulging in a little bloodsport, but it would make sure that Ephram paid dearly for it; moment after agonizing moment.  
  
And the fact of the matter was that they both _knew it._  
  
The difference, Freddie knew, was that Ephram didn’t care. His vengeance, his retribution, his loss would mean more to him than his own suffering - and the magnitude of that stole Freddie’s breath, and made his heart ache in his chest.  
  
“I love you,” he said thickly, reaching up to touch Ephram’s face. “You know that, yeah? That I’ve never-” His voice threatening to break, to dissolve him to an uncontrolled mess, Freddie cut off, and took a breath; counting silently until he was sure he could speak again without wavering. Then, letting out the air slowly, he carried on. “If I’m dead, then I can’t stop you from doing whatever you think is right - no matter how fucking awful I think it is - but I don’t think it’s going to come to that. Not for the moment, at least.”  
  
“I think,” the fairy said hollowly, “-that if Martin was going to kill me, if that was all he wanted, he’d have done it by now. I could be wrong - Christ knows I’ve been wrong about him before - but I don’t think so, this time. I think he’s going to show me that he owns me - that he always has.” Freddie shuddered slightly, unable to stop the involuntary response, “And killing me won’t serve that purpose.”  
  
He looked up at Ephram solemnly. “But you promised, love. If I’m alive, Anaxis stays locked away. So you can’t break it - no matter _what_ I have to do, yeah?”  
  
It was clear in how Freddie’s demeanor shifted, the way he settled himself against Ephram without any of the previous vehement objection, that Freddie understood the magnitude of what Ephram was saying without him having to spell it out. And for that, the depth and quality of his husband’s comprehension of what Anaxis was and what it was about, Ephram was profoundly, immeasurably grateful. After all this time of people misunderstanding the demon, gendering it, ascribing to it basic blood-and-gore motives and a desire to conquer and pillage, Freddie was the sole person to understand that Anaxis’ _only_ goal was to make Ephram suffer.  
  
Freddie knew what it meant, should Ephram actively call the demon forth. What his hollow, shattered life would then become.  
  
Clasping his arms around his husband, Ephram kissed him on the forehead, feather-light. Any which way they moved they would bruise, at this point, the raw emotion making Ephram feel sore and achy inside and out. “I love you too, Freddie,” he murmured. “You’re the only man I ever loved. The only one I ever will.” Ephram let himself soak in those words spoken aloud, the truth that rang in them - and found himself content that they were fixed within him and never to change.  
  
“...he wants to torture you,” Ephram agreed. “Let you know that you been living your life on his grace, and now it’s time for you to be set to what he thinks is your sole purpose. To be his possession and beholden to his whims, and for you to realize it, and give up all hope of anything else.” Ephram’s long arms held Freddie tighter. “Adjaye sounds fair like a demon his own self,” he muttered bitterly, full of hate.  
  
Looking down at Freddie, Ephram couldn’t speak for a moment, overcome as he was with passionate, possessive love for his husband. Then he nodded, saying stickily, “The lid stays on so long as you’re alive and there’s a chance to get you back. Even if you gotta pay a price to get out of it. I swear on everything I got in me, Freddie.” Ephram kissed his fairy’s mouth then, murmuring, “You got my complete trust. My brave, clever husband.”  
  
Freddie allowed himself a moment, leaning against Ephram’s chest, listening to the thump of his husband’s heartbeat, to just let the strength and the depth of their love for one another be his focus - any lingering insecurity about his place in Ephram’s life banished now - before raising his head to nod at Ephram’s assessment of Martin. “Yeah,” Freddie said quietly, “Yeah, I think that’s precisely what he wants.”  
  
He thought back to all the times he’d fled from the vampire over the years; catching sight of him at an event or a party; hearing about him from one acquaintance or another, one mark or another, and abandoning the job instantly. Running to the furthest corner of the world that he could think of, and foolishly believing that would keep him safe; that each run-in was just a horrible coincidence, an unavoidable side-effect of moving in the circles his profession dictated. Now, Freddie cursed himself for being so fucking naive.  
  
“What I don’t understand,” the fairy muttered, “-is why he waited so long…”  
  
Feeling vaguely sick to his stomach, Freddie clutched at Ephram tighter, giving himself over to the gentle press of Ephram’s lips against his own, and then deepening it for a moment - just wanting to taste him; drawing solace from the quiet power of Ephram’s trust in him.  
  
“I trust you too, love,” the fairy murmured, “And… thank-you. I know this… I know it’s a lot to take… and that it’s only going to get worse.”  
  
He shook his head, overwhelmed. “Ruby’s barely even well again and likely to be attacked the moment she is, you’ve got the entire town to think of, and now there’s this to contend with… I don’t- I just- …I never even saw it coming, sweetheart. I had no flaming idea until it was already too late.”  
  
“Well, being a vamp, he’s got all the time in the world, right?” Ephram couldn’t stop touching Freddie all over, his hands smoothing over his fairy’s back and sides and arms and shoulders. “So maybe for him the long game is what he likes. Making sure that you wasn’t allowed to settle anywhere because he’d always find you. Playing hide-and-seek with you was probably the most challenge the fucker’s had, Freddie, with how brilliant you are at it.” He paused his speculations to kiss Freddie again. “And now that you ain’t just settled, you’re loved and you love back, it would be the perfect point to bring it all crashing down around you. For daring to think you could have this.”  
  
Ephram caught himself short after his lengthy suppositions, sounding a little abashed when he hurriedly said, “…but I’m sure Iann and Elizabeth would be able to puzzle this out better’n me, they’ve got the brains for it.” He hugged Freddie to him. “I’m here for support, though. For anything you need. Don’t even think that I wouldn’t drop everything in my whole life for you, baby.”  
  
Stroking his hands over Freddie’s hair and down to cup his face, Ephram said firmly, “Nobody would of saw it coming. That ain’t important now. What’s important is you know how loved you are and that you’re gonna find a way through this, Freddie Watts. I love you. I believe you can. You ain’t gonna let some ol’ stalker vampire take this away from us.” He kissed Freddie over and over, muttering against his skin. “You'll find a way out. You’s the smartest goddamn person I know and you’re sweet and loving and that’s your advantage over Adjaye, y’hear? He can’t understand that. He can’t understand that kind of emotion, and you got it shining out of you like salvation, Freddie, my sweetheart, my precious boy.”  
  
Freddie was so tired, still not over being ill - his wings were aching, his head was pounding, and he still felt vaguely nauseous - and all he wanted to do was to collapse somewhere; but the longer they stood there, and the more Ephram touched him, the more he couldn’t bear the idea of letting go. Not even for the scant few seconds it would take to settle back down onto the sofa again.  
  
So he didn’t. He just hung on tighter, and locked his knees, well aware that sleep wasn’t going to be a possibility tonight. That he had no desire to see what he _knew_ was waiting for him if he attempted to close his eyes.  
  
Instead, Freddie listened to Ephram reason out Martin’s rationale, accepting his husband’s kiss when it was offered, and knowing that he was right - because timing was everything, and Martin had never liked to do things by half-measures. If he intended to break Freddie down, then there had never been a better time.  
  
It was a well-reasoned assessment, and Freddie was genuinely surprised - genuinely _upset_ \- to hear Ephram so readily dismiss his insight just moments later.  
  
“That’s rubbish. You’re just as smart as Iann and Lizzie,” he said, “-and you’re a damn sight better able to empathize than either of them.”  
  
“Do you know how much I hate it when you do that?” the fairy murmured, looking up into Ephram’s eyes, “You belittle yourself and present it as fact, when it’s absolutely nothing of the kind.” Freddie was pulled closer, and he hugged Ephram hard, his eyes filling again when he heard his husband say that he’d drop everything for him. That he’d abandon everything he cared about if only Freddie said the word.  
  
He hated to cry, and he especially hated to be so weak as to do it in front of Ephram - but there was nothing for it now.  
  
By the time Ephram was kissing him, telling him that he believed in him - that he knew Freddie would find a way out of this mess, that he wouldn’t let Martin take away what they had - the tears were rolling silently down his cheeks.  
  
He just couldn’t seem to choke them back anymore.  
  
“Oh, honey – that’s just how us Southerners get. We’re self-effacing because talking up your talents is bad luck, draws the evil eye.” This was only partially true, but Ephram didn’t think that his self-esteem regarding his intelligence was exactly an appropriate topic at the moment. That was a slow process, even if Freddie was helping immeasurably with it.  
  
He didn’t even _want_ to talk about it, anyhow, with Freddie crumpled in his arms as if Ephram was the only thing holding him up. And maybe that wasn’t far from fact, with Freddie weeping endlessly and completely quietly, the kind of heartbroken crying where you didn’t have any control over it. Soul-deep crying. The worst kind, in Ephram’s opinion, and the thought of his husband being reduced to that place just doubled his resolve to bolster Freddie as much as he could. Freddie was a creature built entirely on confidence and glamour; that was how he worked his magic, got himself out of sticky situations.  
  
Like this, a palpably beaten-down wreck of himself brought low by what had been done to him and would be done again, Freddie wouldn’t stand a chance.  
  
Hauling Freddie with him bodily, Ephram sank down to the floor, his back propped against the sofa as he pulled Freddie to curl into his lap. “You listen to me now, Freddie Watts,” he murmured, holding his husband close, lips moving against his soft, creek-brown hair. “You listen and you remember who you are. You’ve stole Faberge eggs and sugarplums and priceless art. You survived what them teachers did to you when you was only a lil’un. You made it all by yourself when you was even younger than that. There ain’t any yellow in you, husband, not even a dab of it. You been thriving and flourishing when everything else told you that you had only bad things coming to you. You’re this - you’re this amazing, loving, crackerjack smart fairy, and you did it all yourself. Because you got that light in you, honey, that ain’t gonna be put out by anything or any-fuckin'-one.” Ephram smoothed his thumb over Freddie’s collarbone, and his voice was a little more hushed, grateful and besotted when he spoke again.  
  
“You helped me with Anaxis, like nobody else has. Made me think there’s a chance to push it back for good. You got _marked_ for me.” Ephram pressed little kisses against Freddie’s head. “You’re always so fuckin’ proud of me, baby, and God knows I am of you. For everything you made it through, to get to here, what we have together. And you did it all yourself. So you're gonna do this, Freddie. And you're gonna come back to me.”  
  
He stopped there, leaving Freddie some space to think on what Ephram had said. And hoping to God that it would help, in some small way, to serve as armour against the dragon that Freddie would have to confront. It would be bloody, that was inevitable.

But naive as it might be, Ephram truly believed that with all the love standing behind Freddie, the formidable store of resilience that his fairy possessed might be enough to help him survive. One more time, and this time not to limp home alone; this time, back to the man who treasured him.


End file.
